Master
by Syynex
Summary: Isshin's stupidity brings about an opportunity for a young Ichigo to discover the power within him, the power one possesses when they are the human child of a Shinigami and Kuinshi; the ability to fully control reiryoku.
1. Chapter 1

**Today I decided to post all the stories gathering dust in my folders. I figure that if NeonZangetsu-Sempai can do it so can I. Don't expect updates on these, I'm just posting them so you can all see why I take forever to update. Enjoy ^_^**

* * *

Dull blue eyes watched the rain with disinterest as it fell from the crying heavens. It seemed as though the sky was trying to match his sadness today, the one year anniversary of her death. His heart had been torn from his chest when he learned of what happened, his stomach knotting itself up and moving to a throat that had became incapable of speech.

He had been found laying in the wet grass, completely uninjured, just inches from the lifeless body of his beloved mother, and was brought directly to his father. It was three days later that he found out about it.

He wept for weeks.

Ever since that day he had valued his relationship with others immensely, becoming incredibly sensitive to the feelings of those he held close to his fragile heart. And that was why he was here, sitting alone in this dark penthouse and overlooking the city below him through the window that made up the entirety of the wall.

The bonds he had were more important to him than life itself, something he realized upon the death of Masaki. Just this morning he had been with his family, he wasn't happy, as how could a child remembering his mother's death be happy? but he was not overly saddened, having his father and sisters to lift his spirits out of the dark blanket that usually clung to him.

And then, sometime that afternoon, it had happened. Tears slid down his face just thinking about it.

She hated him, she had said she hated him. One of his most precious people had yelled at him, shouting about how much she hated him, how it was his fault Masaki died, claiming that he shouldn't have been the one to live. He was still trying to understand it-

Karin HATED him.

The little sister that he loved and adored loathed his very being.

And he didn't know if he could take it.

To make matters worse he had been sent here, to a penthouse supposedly owned by his mother. He was in Naruki-Shi, miles away from the others.

Isolated.

Cut-off

Abandoned.

Banished.

They must have felt the same way, sending him here because they too couldn't stand him. He was the cause of his mother's death, there was no other explanation. He had already contemplated on whether or not his life held any meaning, if he should've been born in the first place, and now he had his answer.

No.

He should have died in the womb, should never had been conceived in the womb of his beloved mother, shouldn't have tainted the world with his presence.

He wouldn't know that his father had sent him here hoping that he could calm down and overcome the actions of his sister, that none of them truly blamed him and Karin had just been upset and needed someone to take it out on. His father loved him, but he wasn't the most intelligent of people. Ichigo didn't need isolation, he needed to be surrounded by those he loved, people to take his mind from recent happenings, anyone to simply stop him from delving into his own mind and being swallowed by the shadows within. But now he had no one, didn't think that those still in his home town still cared for him, was unable to realize that this was for him and his own good.

The mind of a child is a delicate thing and it oft' wanders to places it should never go. It must have some sort of guide, something to focus it, or it risks losing itself forever.

Kurosaki Ichigo had no such guide.

* * *

Bright red eyes ran over the city in search of the calling's origin. A desperate plea for help that ran through not the air, but through his very being. An instinct awoken by some unknown being that was in need of his assistance. He would aid them, after all, what kind of butler would he be if he didn't answer his master's summons?

* * *

Kurosaki Karin couldn't sleep, couldn't even try to sleep. Tossing and turning in her bed, she did her best not to wake up her sister, it wasn't Yuzu's problem, wasn't her fault. There was no need to keep the young brunette awake with her guilt.

How could she? How could she yell at her brother like that? Blaming him for a death he already thought he caused, something that caused him to wallow in misery and despair the entire family had difficulty pulling him out of, even for a few minutes.

Terrible didn't begin to describe how she felt right now, nothing could, but the closest she was able to put words to was that she felt like a monster, a heartless beast that had unleashed her furry upon a fragile boy, tearing at him with claws of rage and biting him with teeth of bitter words. She had seen what little happiness they had managed to give him fade, his small, serene smile shattering like the brittle glass his heart was made of.

Had she stopped, had she noticed, had she cared?

No.

She had pressed on, determined to shatter him into a million invisible pieces to be swept away by the winds of hatred, never to be seen again. Even while she was being pulled away she had been shouting at him, screaming at the statuesque boy.

His eyes had become unfocused and dull, his body unmoving, he drew in not a breath and released none either, he couldn't even bring himself to blink. If Karin dared guess, she would say that his heart ceased beating and his blood became solid within his veins. Never had she witnessed something so human looking and yet at the same time so utterly lifeless. Even her mother's dead body hadn't come close.

Closing her eyes tightly, she did nothing to stem the tide of salty tears that ran down her face. She gripped the sheets tight and drifted of into fitful slumber, a single sob escaping her lips.

"Forgive me, Nii-Sama"

* * *

Cries, shrieks, and howls pierced the air, masses of black flesh moving to a single point of the city, all with one goal in mind;

Answer the call.

What call? The call within their minds, their hearts, their very souls. The summoning of demons, the plea for guardians, the cry for protectors. They would be all that and anything else the source may require because they could feel it, the great power- that which was and that which was to be- attracting them, threatening to snuff out their very being, and the control over said power- the control over THEIR power. This being was born to control them, and they would obey.

Their master would be served.

* * *

Brown eyes, dull and lifeless, cracked opened lazily, gazing about the penthouse that at one point had belonged to his mother. Frowning slightly, he tried to remember at what point he had fallen asleep, and why there was a blanked draped haphazardly across his form.

He knew he didn't grab a blanket last night, so it must have been someone else, in fact, now that he thought about of it, what was that smell? It was awfully similar to eggs, bacon, sausage, and a myriad of other breakfast foods.

Was his mind playing tricks on him? Just like last year when he thought he had seen that little girl by the riverbank? A mistake that had cost his mother her life? He shut his eyes tightly and tried not to think about it, no use crying for her. He wasn't sure if she still loved him after he caused ..no, after he killed her, but either way she wouldn't want him always thinking about her death. She was a kind hearted woman who wanted the best for everyone, she would rather see him, her murderer, wash himself free of the guilt that plagued him instead of suffering from regret.

If only it was that easy.

With a sigh, Ichigo pushed himself to a sitting position using his forearms, throwing the blanket over the back of the couch to put away later….or maybe not. There wasn't a bed that he knew of, and most of the penthouse was one big room with the exceptions of the bathroom and a kitchen that was only separated by a half-wall, allowing those cooking to look through the enormous window. He was going to be here for an unknown amount of time and would probably end up sleeping on the couch again during his stay.

He took a quick look around, noticing that a pile of clean clothing was on the mahogany coffee table to his right. He definitely knew he didn't do that, hell, he didn't own any clothes like that. Shrugging, he striped out of yesterday's wear and replaced it with black slacks and a plain white dress shirt. Deciding he might as well, the black leather shoes, Italian, he idly noticed, found there way onto his feet, separated from his flesh by thin black socks.

Turning back to the pile of clothes he had discarded, he paused in suspicion when he found them neatly folded on the couch, right next to the blanket that was similarly folded. Resting atop his clothes were his shoes, which had been near the front door, and within those shoes were his white socks. He cast his eyes about the room, searching for anyone -or thing- that may have been responsible. In one corner of the room he could have sworn he saw a pair of golden eyes, but they quickly vanished.

Regardless of the eyes' disappearance, he proceeded to give a slight nod in that direction and mutter a quiet 'thank you' before walking over to the kitchen. The second his gaze turned away, several pairs of bright yellow eyes snapped open, watching as he left. If there was any doubt before, it was gone now. This boy was the one who was to become their master, his presence confirmed it and his actions showed him to be suitable. Once again vanishing, the owners of the eyes also disappeared, determined to find ways to further serve their young master.

When he entered the kitchen, Ichigo was granted the sight of an unknown man cooking. Well, he thought it was a man, it was male, in any case, but he wasn't entirely sure he was human. Why would he say something like that? It might have been the red eyes that turned to him, or perhaps the smile of pointed teeth that greeted him. Heck, the forked tongue was a pretty good giveaway, too.

"Ah, young master, I see you have awakened, would you care for some breakfast?" The tone was smooth and respectful, telling Ichigo that the person before him was completely sincere. He was slightly confused by the 'young master' bit, and the fact that there was a strange man preparing him breakfast in his mother's penthouse, but he honestly couldn't find it within himself to care at the moment, still numb from his sister's words and the memory of his mother's death.

"Yes please, thank you." the man gave a nod and turned back to the stove as Ichigo went to sit at the small breakfast bar that gave him a view of the city. He found it oddly relaxing to look down on people going about their own lives, completely oblivious to the lives of those around them, but decided to focus his attention on the person making his meal instead.

They were around 5'10, maybe 6 foot, with a lithe build. He was dressed similarly to Ichigo; black dress pants, black shoes, white dress shirt, and a crimson tie. There was a black dress coat neatly hanging over a nearby chair which Ichigo assumed was the man's. He had, as previously mentioned, bright red eyes and pointed teeth, a forked tongue hidden behind the walls of white. His hair, a shimmering silver, coming to his shoulder blades, was pulled back by a red band, and two bangs framed his cheeks, reaching his jaw line.

He was handsome, that much was obvious, and he carried himself with grace and elegance, giving the impression of a refined gentleman. Ichigo wouldn't assume so, he had learned his lesson about trusting appearances.

And all it had taken was his mothers death.

Brutally crushing that line of thought, he continued to observe the man, trying to learn as much as he could through the menial actions of cooking a breakfast. Of course, a minute later he discovered that the task hadn't been menial at all.

Placed before him was a feast, at least for the small boy, various foods ranging from eggs to oatmeal and even crepes. Anything one could possibly think of when describing a breakfast was laid out in front of him, all prepared by the man standing to his side.

"Please, help yourself, young master. I didn't know what you liked, so I made everything. I'm sure you have questions, so I will answer them as you eat." He was given a gentle smile from the man and, in an uncharacteristic leap of faith, began eating the food prepared for him by this stranger.

Yeah, he had many, many questions, but this delicious meal was WAY more important to his empty stomach right now, the questions could wait!


	2. Chapter 2

'_Kimi wa kimi dake shika inai yo_

_Kawari nante hoka ni inainda_

_Karenai de ichirin no hana'_

'_Hikari ga matomo ni shashikomanai_

_Kimi wa maru de hikage ni saita hana no you_

_Nozonda hazu jyanakatta basho ni _

_Ne wo harasete ugokezu ni irunda ne_

_Tojikaketa kimochi haki daseba '_

"Who the hell is it?" Normally he'd answer the phone politely, but at three in the fucking morning he just couldn't give a shit.

"….."

"Isshin? Why are you calling me so damn early?"

"….."

"You did WHAT?"

"….."

"Can't you do a damn thing right?! I'll be there at seven to pick your ass up, we're going to go make sure my godson's okay."

He'd like to go back to sleep peacefully, but knowing that Isshin had separated his godson from the others because he thought it would help the boy infuriated him far too much for that.

With a sigh, Ishida Ryuken got up to make the first cup of coffee of the many he would no doubt consume.

* * *

"So, your name is Syynex, and you're one of these 'hollows' you've been telling me of?" Asked Ichigo as he sipped his orange juice, empty and half-eaten platters stretched out before him. It was nowhere near as good as Yuzu's cooking, as nothing ever was, but it was definitely second place. Syynex gave a nod, still standing next to his young master.

"Yes, Ichigo-Sama, is that all you wanted to know so far?" Placing down his orange juice and giving a content sigh, he turned to Syynex, his new butler.

"Yeah, I guess, I'll tell you if I think of anything else." Ichigo left the kitchen, moving back to his couch and lounging upon it, Syynex following him into the room. They had been speaking for the last hour or so, in which time Syynex had covered most of the spirit worlds and how they worked, leaving absolutely nothing out.

"Of course, young master, is there anything else you require?" Asked the hollow. The young boy shook his head.

"No, you can go do what you want." Answered Ichigo. Kami, he was stuffed! All he wanted to do right now was take a good long nap, preferably a dreamless one.

"Very well, I will be in the city finding some things, I will return in a few hours. If you need anything just call for one of the hollows in the room" With that Syynex turned to the door and walked out, shutting it without a sound. When he was gone Ichigo let out a long sigh. That had been a lot to take in. Shinigami, Hollows, Zanpakuto, spiritually aware humans, the realms, the relationships between various spirits and realms, and details about his new butler who came to him because of some sort of 'calling' he gave off.

Where was that damn Acetaminophen when you needed it?

He only blinked once before a bottle of pills and a glass of water were on the coffee table next to him. It seemed as though one was psychic and another was insanely fast. Meh, he wasn't going to complain, though he was still trying to wrap his head around the whole 'master with demonic servants' thing, this could take quite a while.

Popping two of the white pills and downing them with water, he unbuttoned his shirt and removed his shoes, curling up under the thin blanket on the couch, ready for a nap. So what if he had just woken up an hour and a half ago? Sleep was one of his favorite things, it usually got his mind off of his mother, after all. Closing his eyes, he was aware of a sudden extra darkness in the room. Cracking a single eye open revealed a curtain covering the window.

Odd, he didn't know it had a curtain, where was that kept that he couldn't see it? Better question, how did they find it and set it up so damn fast? He didn't have his eyes closed for more than five seconds!

Deciding it didn't matter, he gave another 'thanks' to the unseen hollows before drifting off to sleep. He hoped for pleasant dreams, or even no dreams at all.

Sadly, his wish would not be granted.

* * *

Minding her own business and munching happily on a doughnut, Riruka gave a mental sigh when she sensed a hollow nearby. She really, REALLY, didn't want to get up from the small café she was in just to take care of some stupid spirit that couldn't pass on.

She was going to get up, but paused when she saw it pass nearby displaying rather odd behavior. What was that odd behavior?

Well, for starters, the humanoid hollow was walking down the streets as if he was supposed to be there, definitely not normal. Then, he was physically there, able to interact with things and people around him like a regular human. Lastly, he was-

Shopping?!

He walked down the streets, arms laden with various multi-colored bags, peering through the windows and occasionally purchasing something from within or one of the many people selling their wares on the street.

What the hell was wrong with this hollow? Did it think itself human? Was it messing with her? Had her doughnut contained something it shouldn't have?

As much as she hated to admit it, the last one was more plausible. The others in Xcution had done similar things before. Trying to forget about those less than pleasant memories, she focused on the hollow, who was now sitting on a park bench with a can of green tea and a newspaper, the bags splayed at his feet.

He was dressed strangely for a hollow, simply because he was wearing clothes, but if one did wear clothes the last thing she'd expect would be the formal suit he had on. It seemed so weird for a hollow to dress nicely, she was far too used to them being mindless beasts that ran around naked trying to eat the souls of humans.

Right now, she didn't know what she'd prefer, the normal naked ones, or this unknown.

Why couldn't she just enjoy her doughnuts?

* * *

Sitting on the park bench, he hid his fanged smirk with a can of green tea. Yes, he knew she had seen him, that was the whole point of walking past her, to catch her interest.

When she sought him out she would meet his master, and one more servant would be under his rule. He didn't know why spiritual beings couldn't resist master Ichigo, but that didn't really matter to him, she wasn't a normal human, and as such she would be drawn to him like the others.

His master deserved her, would have her!

Nothing was too much for his master, of that he was sure.

* * *

"It's your fault!"

"YOUR FAULT!"

"You caused it!"

"YOU CAUSED THIS!"

"You killed her!"

"YOU KILLED ME!"

"You weren't the one who was supposed to survive!"

"YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE!"

"You don't deserve to live!"

"YOU DON'T DESSERVE LIFE!"

"Die!

"DIE!"

"**DIE!"**

"**DIE!"**

Dull brown eyes shot open in terror, his body fighting for air that his lungs refused to take in and a silent scream remained locked within his throat. His heart, which beat furiously, felt as though it were being squeezed by the cold hands of death herself. In countless knots was his stomach, which was pressed painfully every time he gasped for breath. Sweat poured from his small figure, soaking everything around him.

Propping himself up on his forearms, he gazed about the room, seeing only darkness as he attempted to calm his body.

It didn't work.

The voices, easily identified as those of his mother and sister, still haunted him in these waking moments, refusing to leave his head. They taunted him, screamed in rage, blamed him for the death of his mother, and made it quite clear that he should be the one six feet under.

If it stopped the voices, he gladly would be.

'_Yes, do it. Kill yourself, end your pitiful existence! DO IT!'_

The young boy gripped his head as if it would miraculously banish the remnants of his nightmare. What he hoped was a mere nightmare.

'_It was no nightmare, Sochi!' _The unwanted comment in the voice of his mother was so acidic that he felt his very flesh being corroded.

"No, no, no!" he muttered, rocking back and forth. "You're not real, not real, you can't be real, I killed you, I killed you!"

'_Oh, but I am real. Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I'm gone, I'll be here to watch you die alone, abandoned by all those you cared about, forsaken by those you loved, laying face down in the mud of some alleyway, cold and starving because everything was taken from you by those you trusted, just as I trusted you!'_

The memory of the last thing he had promised to her ran through his head, joining in with the roaring drone of the others.

'_Don't worry, Kaa-san, I'll protect you!'_

'_Lies! Liar! You didn't protect me! You let me die! It's your fault I'm gone, you're the reason I'm not with the people I love, you took them away from me, took me away from them!'_

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I promise!" He sobbed, shaking on the floor.

'_Liar! You did nothing! You didn't care about me! You wanted me to die!'_

"K-kaa-san.."

'_You are no son of mine!' _

Laying on the floor, his body soaked in sweat and tears, Ichigo cried himself to sleep.

A sleep no more restful than the last.

* * *

"Look, I said I was sorry, what more do you want?" Asked Isshin, sitting shotgun in Ryuken's car.

"Some competence would be nice." Came the doctor's dry answer. "Besides, it's not me you should be apologizing to." Isshin sighed sadly, nodding.

"Yeah, I know, I shouldn't have sent him there, I wasn't thinking."

"I noticed, you happen to do that a lot. Just try not to fuck this up, you're on thin enough ice with him already." You knew Ryuken was pissed when he lost his composure even the faintest bit. If he had started cussing you knew you were in deep shit.

* * *

'_knock'_

'_knock'_

'_knock'_

"Ichigo, you here?"

The voice of his father snapped his attention towards the door. His dad was back? Was he going home now? He didn't sound angry or hostile , so Ichigo took another chance -something he'd been doing an awful lot lately- and went to open the door, slightly scared of what he might find, like his father bringing him his belongings so he could remain here, unwelcome to return home.

The hallway revealed two men, the first his father and the second an unknown with silver hair like Syynex. Isshin was smiling, a good sign, but the ten year-old couldn't be sure. He looked up to his father, wanting to see something in his eyes to inform him of the situation, but the second their gazes locked his dad flinched, his grin faltering as he struggled to maintain it. Eyes that were trying to convey love and acceptance darkened ever so slightly, but he noticed.

A large crack ran over Ichigo's still repairing heart, threatening to reduce it to dust once more. So it was true, then, they really did hate him, couldn't even stand the sight of him.

'_I will be here to watch you die alone, abandoned by all those you cared about, forsaken by those you loved.'_

Ichigo couldn't find within himself the effort to respond to his own mind, as he had determined it must be, he couldn't believe this.

They hated him, loathed him, wished to never see him again, why?

'_Because you killed me, you said so yourself. I was everything to them, you took everything from them, all you are is a reminder of their loss, a living cause of pain, one they can't easily get rid of, that's why they pretended to love you, because they had no choice.'_

'N-no! It can't be!'

'_Oh, it is, and you know it, don't try to deny the truth.'_

As much as he wanted to claim that it was a lie, everything he had recently witness testified of the horrid truth;

No one loved him.


	3. Chapter 3

He had fucked up, he knew that very well, and this was his chance to fix it, but he just couldn't do it, couldn't meet the eyes of his son. Those eyes had never failed to remind him of his deceased wife, never hesitated to bring back the pain of her loss, and he couldn't bear it this time. Normally he could ignore the pain, focusing instead on his troubled son, but this time it was different, much different, and it was all his fault.

Ichigo's eyes contained all the pain and mental anguish he suffered from, caused both by Masaki's death and Isshin's own poor decisions while trying to raise the boy, especially his latest. As much as he tried not to, he couldn't help but flinch at the pain his son showed so openly. His mouth, which had been smiling in order to comfort the boy, tried to frown, lips struggling to maintain a pleasant expression.

He watched with sad eyes as the hopeful look his son had faded away, a response to his small, barely noticeable actions. Guilt surged up yet again with a vengeance, tearing through the walls of his heart, mind, and soul. It almost drove him to cry, to collapse upon the ground and writhe in physical pain, but he stayed strong, he had no right to pity himself, his son, at a mere ten years of age, had no doubt felt much more than he was, and the boy probably still was, wounds freshened because he was too guilty to look his own son in the eye and tell him it was time to go home.

Home.

Was that what it was to his son? A home? Or was it a building filled with strangers you had wronged, robbed of their most precious possession, the life of a kind and loving mother? It must have seemed like the latter to him, trapped in a place that brought constant reminders of your actions, and the agonizing guilt that came with it. Yuzu forced to take up the duties of a mother around the house, Karin placing up a mask of indifference and invulnerability to keep from breaking down and taking the rest of them with her, and even himself, spending the late hours of the night in front of her picture, sake next to him, as he allowed a few tears to roll down his stubble-covered cheeks.

To be forever reminded of the pain you caused those you loved, and yourself, must have been hell.

And what had he done to rescue his son from that hell? Absolutely nothing. Sure, he acted like a fool to cheer his children up, but that was for all of them, and helped Ichigo the least. Ichigo had needed comfort and reassurance, to be surrounded by his precious people even against his own will. Instead he had allowed the boy to lock himself within the empty solitude of his room, wandering the dark recesses of his mind, slipping further and further into the black water of his thoughts until they dragged him under to drown in misery and despair.

This had been his one chance to fix it, to make right his foolish actions, and within seconds that chance was gone, faded into nothing like the hopeful look in his son's eyes, now conveying only pain and loneliness. Could he go back in time, just to fix this one mistake, to look his son in the eyes and reassure him that everything was fine? No, he couldn't, regardless of how much he longed to, of what he was willing to sacrifice. Nothing would fix this, nothing could he could do would help his son now, his last chance to make amends had disappeared.

And so went with it his last chance to be the father Ichigo needed.

* * *

'_Kamidamnit, Isshin!' _Thought Ryuken, watching his old friend flinch upon making eye contact with his son. That was it, this entire trip had become practically useless from that one small action. The boy had seen it, he was sure of that, and it would send all the wrong messages, shutting his heart and mind as tightly as possible to avoid damage. He wouldn't be open to their words now, wouldn't trust or believe them.

Well, at least not Isshin, he still had a chance, albeit a small one, to establish himself within the boy's life, to be the godfather he had been entrusted to be by Masaki. He wouldn't fuck this up, wouldn't let this window close him out of the boy's life. Ichigo needed somebody, anybody, to help him, to rescue him from the depths of his mind, to correct his current mentality and beliefs, or Kurosaki Ichigo would cease to exist, leaving only an empty shell behind.

He watched, his heart wrenching, as the hope drained from Ichigo's eyes, his salvation from his misery taken away just as it was offered. Hopelessness settled over the boys features, grim realization and, what pained Ryuken more than anything else, acceptance. He had come to a conclusion about himself, one further instilled and cemented by the actions of others, and he accepted it as fact. There were no signs of internal struggle within the boy, he had resigned himself to his fate the instant he realized he had no chances of ever changing it.

"Isshin, perhaps it would be best if we allowed him to live here, in his mother's penthouse." Suggested Ryuken, sending a compassionate glance towards Ichigo. The boy seemed to understand that the doctor was doing it for him, giving the silver-haired man a nod of thanks, which miraculously wasn't seen by Isshin. The Quincy continued.

"I can stop by regularly to make sure he's doing well and he can have a taste of the freedom and responsibility that comes with adulthood. It would be a good experience for him, and would probably help him immensely in life." The last part was a thinly veiled hint that this would be good for the boy's mentality and emotional state, more so because he would no longer need to see other Kurosaki members and be reminded of his pain and guilt than anything else.

"Y-yeah, I suppose, is that alright with you, Ichigo? Do you want to stay here?" Agreed Isshin, chuckling nervously and scratching the back of his head. In response the boy only nodded, prompting an awkward silence to engulf them. Luckily, for Isshin, seeing as he was the only one who seemed affected, Ryuken addressed him.

"Why don't you head back to my car, Isshin, I would like a few words with Ichigo here."

"Um, sure, I, well, I'll see you around, Ichigo, take care of yourself, alright?" He really didn't know what else to say, but that was to be expected, he wasn't a very bright man, and really didn't have the slightest way with words. When the buffoon was gone, Ryuken turned his gaze to Ichigo, kneeling to show that they were on equal footing.

"I suppose I should start by introducing myself. My name is Ishida Ryuken, your godfather. I am also a doctor, the owner of a hospital in Karakura town, and something called a Quincy." Said the man, being completely honest with the boy. There was no surer way of being blocked off from Ichigo's heart than to hide things from him. "Now, this might be an odd question, but where did you get those clothes?" Isshin sure as hell didn't buy them for the boy, he was incapable of that.

"You're a Quincy?" Asked Ichigo, only looking faintly interested. "Syynex told me about Quincies, he said they made weapons out of Reiryoku. Can you do that, Ryuken?"

The Quincy was taken aback by that, not having foreseen the boy knowing about spiritual beings. Quickly composing himself, he asked another question.

"Yes, I can. Tell me, who is this 'Syynex'?" Who was telling Ichigo about the spiritual world and why would they do such? Surely there was nothing to gain from it, unless they were trying to recruit him for something. Even at his young age, Ichigo possessed a remarkable amount of reiryoku and exerted sizeable reiatsu.

"Syynex is the one who gave me these clothes and taught me about the different worlds. He also made me breakfast. He's a hollow." Answered the eldest Kurosaki, completely comfortable having a soul-devouring creature within his home. Hell, he seemed to trust it more than Isshin- which was not hard to believe- and Ryuken could only imagine what the ex-shinigami would go through had he known his own son would trust a hollow over him.

"A hollow you say? I assume you are knowledgeable about them?" This was definitely a cause for concern, but if the boy knew about them and trusted the hollow then Ryuken was in no place to force him to do otherwise. He'd have to trust the boy's judgment on this one. Ichigo nodded in conformation.

"Hollows help keep the balance." He began. "They consume and store the souls of the deceased within them until a shinigami comes to purify it and send them all to Soul Society, that way those souls don't have to suffer like the hollows do."

That was an...interesting...way of putting it, but not completely incorrect. It was quite possible that the underlying reason for hollows to devour souls was to spare them a similar pain, even if the instinct-driven beings were unaware. Either way it seemed as though the hollow his godson had met was rather intelligent, showing the ability of higher thinking possessed only by stronger hollows. The stronger the hollow the less they were a slave to their hunger, which was a good thing. It meant that the chances of Ichigo being eaten were slim, and the chances of that hollow protecting him from others was good.

"Ah, so he's been helping you?" Asked Ryuken, looking for conformation.

"Yes, he's nice." Alright, he definitely couldn't do anything about it, and there really wasn't any reason he could find not to leave the boy with this hollow, as strange as that was. He was happy, well, happier, no, perhaps 'more comfortable' was the best way to say it? Yes, that sounded good. Ichigo here was more comfortable in the presence of this strange hollow than he was when surrounded by his family or other people, it would be cruel to take that from him.

"Well then, I guess I'll be leaving you in his care. I'll send you some money every week and make sure your bills are paid. If I'm not here to check up on you every few weeks or so one of my employees will be, alright?" Ichigo nodded, content with the way everything would work from now on. He might be separated from his family, but they didn't want him around anyway, so this was for the best.

"Now that that's all settled, I better go check up on the fool before he destroys my car. Goodbye, Ichigo, and, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about your family" '_About Masaki' _was left unsaid, but Ichigo still understood what the man had meant.

"Don't be," Reassured Ichigo somberly as the door shut behind Ryuken. "I'm the one who killed her."

* * *

Crimson eyes narrowed in suspicion, following the movements of what could only be a spiritual being. Judging by the large amount of white and the various crosses hidden on the outfit, it was probably a Kuinshi.

Normally, seeing a Kuinshi in a human parking lot wouldn't cause any concern for Syynex, but it was due to the specific parking lot they happened to be at that the hollow's suspicions had risen. After all, this was the parking lot outside the building in which his master lived.

The silver-haired Kuinshi made his way to a car, where Syynex noticed and recognized the other spiritual signature, faint as it was;

Shinigami.

Now he was more curious than worried for his master's health. A Kuinshi and Shinigami traveling together? Now what could have caused something like this? Unless, of course, they both had some sort of connection to his master. The Shinigami must have been Ichigo's father, if the shameful expression was anything to go by, and the ire on the Kuinshi's face, irritation directed towards the Shinigami, would be suitable for an uncle or something similar, like a godfather. It would make sense, seeing as they were Kuinshi, that the man had some form of relation to his master's mother, so either of those connections would have fit well.

It really didn't matter at this point, however, as they were both leaving, obviously done here. If his master would like to talk to him about it, or fill him in on what he had missed while out shopping then the young boy would. If not, well, there wouldn't be much of a reason to dwell on it, would there?

Pushing the strange presence of the two enemy (both to him and each other) beings out of his mind, and completely forgetting about the magenta-haired woman trailing him, Syynex hastily made his way to his master's penthouse, hoping that the two had not harmed his master while he was away.

He never saw the suspicious gaze the Kuinshi had given him as they passed.


End file.
